From Russia, With Love
by georgia.katherine.reed
Summary: Kaddison; a Russian mercenary with a dark past, and James; an English CHERUB caught between his duty for his country and an unlikey love. Review if you would like story to continue. :
1. Chapter 1

**Operation "Jericho"**

Location: Tokyo, Japan

Objective: Locate person of interest, codename 'Jericho'

* * *

**-Kaddison-**

The lights from the neon signs glowed brightly through the window, casting eerie portraits of gleaming faces and shining words on the wall. The floor, cold and splintered from its abandonment, scratched at my legs as I sat sprawled across the old wooden planks. My school shirt was torn across the front, revealing a black lace bra and the bruised skin across my ribs and chest. Hung in defeat, I kept my head forward and down, allowing the bangs of my auburn hair fall around my eyes. Squeezing my eyes shut, I stifled back the growing pain in my side and let out a groan. Rough rope cut into my wrists as I pulled against the restraints one last time.

A chuckle ran through my ears, dragging my attention to the young Japanese man in front of me. Rolling my eyes up from the floor onto his shiny leather shoes, I raised my gaze up his pressed trousers and suit until I reached his face. His hair, dyed blonde, was spiked up in all directions. Clean-shaven, he smoothed his face with his hand - I smiled faintly as he ran his fingers over the blistering red scar across his cheek. Hanging my head, I fell back into my stupor.

"Yoshi!" commanded a booming voice from behind us. "I told you specifically not to bring anyone here." Yoshi shuffled away from me, facing the stranger.

"She was proving difficult to contain. I had no choice," Yoshi spluttered, the ash from his cigar falling on the ground around him.

"I find it hard to believe that one seventeen year old girl would be too much of a handful for such an _established _businessman as yourself," the voice said again, clicking footsteps approaching the side of the room I was tied to. White alligator shoes came into my view, a short distant from Yoshi. _Jericho…_

"_This_…" spat Yoshi, turning in my direction, "This is no ordinary girl."

"So I see," said _Jericho_, dismayed. I tried to raise my head, but pain coursed through me like a fever in my veins. Every breathe felt like I was drowning and my head swirled in the cascading lights beaming in from outside. "Who is she exactly?"

"We don't know who she really is," murmured Yoshi, his voice begin to quiver. "She's known by the immigration department and her school as Miss Sesilia Smith. Anywhere else, she does not exist."

"And she's in my warehouse, tied up and bruised, why?"

"My men caught her snooping in one of our offices in town not long ago. Seeing as last time her and I met did not go down well for me, it was for the best we held her back. I think she is a spy." I smiled again to myself, remembering the event.

"Uh, so this is _the _Miss Smith. Really, Yoshi, I expected a little more from the vigilante who scarred the famous… what do they call you now? Uh, yes, the Japanese Godfather," _Jericho_ said. "Very well, whoever she is, she will not exist for much longer. Take care of this by tonight. You have a meeting to attend. You need to be at the Casino by nine. Don't forget the briefcase. I will see you in a few days." _Jericho _turned on his heels, the white alligator shoes clicking away. Again, I tried to being my head up and glimpse at the man. By the time I had raised my eyes, his back was facing me and Yoshi was standing in front of me – obscuring my view. _Damn…_

"You won't be getting away from me so easily this time Miss Smith," he clicked, puckering at the large and smelly cigar in his right hand. "I have not forgotten the last time we crossed paths. Every time I look in the mirror I see the mark you have given me and it serves as a reminder of the bitter taste of defeat."

"I had to give you something to remember me by," I sniggered, coughing and wiping my mouth on my bloodstained shirt.

"We have your weapons; you are confined and locked away in an unknown location. This time I think it will be you who tastes the bitter defeat," he smirked, picking up and dropping my holster onto a fold up table. The hand pistol and ammunition clinked against the plastic surface. At the foot of the table, a shining black suitcase and my rucksack leaned against the table leg. His faint smile dropped as he kneeled down and brought his face close to mine. The rancid smell of his cigar sunk into my skin and lungs as he breathed over me.

"If I was you, I'd stop with the sass," he warned, his textured Japanese accent clipped. His brown eyes dropped from my face to my exposed neck and chest. Sinking the burning end of his cigar into the skin above my collar bone, I held back from letting out a cry. Burnt skin sizzled under the pressure. The sly smile of satisfaction broke out across Yoshi's face. I lowered my head again, relieved to feel the release of the cigar from my skin. Breathing deeply, I began to smile, and then chuckle, and then laugh. Within moments, I was laughing so much that my stomach hurt and tears began to well up in my eyes.

"Care to explain what is so funny, Miss Smith?" he asked, agitated.

"Are you really that stupid?" I asked back, managing to speak the words between hic-cupped laughter. "Really?"

"I fail to see the funny side to your situation. We have your weapons; you are confined and locked away in an unknown location…"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time," I sighed, collecting myself and sitting up straight. "But how wrong you are. Very wrong indeed." I flicked the hair out of my eyes and began to stretch my arms out behind me. Yoshi stood still, his eyes glinting at me through the dim light.

"You see, none of what you just said is true," I continued, ignoring his staring as I began to stretch my legs and neck. "First of all, I know exactly where we are. The lights outside? There's only three places in a ten kilometre radius of Tokyo, presuming you have taken me to another location as to where you knocked me out, where the Mooshi toothpaste brand advertise with large neon lights. These floorboards are water logged and the slight crusting on the surface is salt, suggesting we are near a coast or ocean. The man that just walked in mentioned we were in a warehouse, narrowing our location down to an industrial area, more likely on the fringe not too close to the newer developed parts due to the condition of the room but close enough to have the light from the street advertisements come in through the window. That puts our current location at Nagini Wharf, Tokyo, Japan." Blood began to pump through my veins again, bringing new energy to my limbs as I finished stretching.

"That is very true, although I fail to see how this can be of use to you – seeing as you are about to die," he said, bringing out a familiar black tipped blade. "Do you remember this? This is the same blade you used to scar me the last time we met. I think it would be nice if we stuck to tradition."

"Give it here and I'll finish the job," I said, pressing my back against the wall, trying to pull myself up into the standing position. Yoshi came forward and gripped my arm like a vice, the cigar again blistering against my skin, and pulled me up against him. Small rusty nails protruded from the wooden panels, scrapping against my body. I was now standing, pressed between the wall and his lean body. Using the knife, he brushed my hair out of the way and then traced my cheek with the tip.

"You know Miss Smith, if that really is your name, you would have made a fine collection to one of my brothels – with such beauty and fierce nature I think you would have made me a lot of money," he murmured, scanning my face. "Killing you is such a waste."

"Then lucky for you, that's not going to happen," I managed, bringing my hands down behind me – the nails snagging and breaking through the rope. Pushing him off me, I reached for the holster on the table, only to be pulled back by his grip on my arm. With my free hand, I swung a punch into his right cheek. His grip loosened, enabling me to break free and grab my hand gun from the table. Bringing it up, I aimed it straight at his face.

"What Casino were you supposed to go to tonight for _Jericho_?" I asked, shrugging on the holster. Yoshi's hands were up in the air; cigar in one and the knife in the other. I took a step forward, being the muzzle of the gun closer to his forehead. "Which one?"

"You wouldn't kill me little girl," he said, shrugging. I raised the gun, pulling the trigger and letting a round into the roof.

"Which one?" I asked again, grabbing the front of his jacket and pushing him against the wall. He cried out as the nails pierced his skin. The clatter of the knife to the floor pierced the silence through the room as I grabbed at his throat.

"You wanted to be captured, didn't you?" he sighed, wheezing. "That's what you wanted all along. You wanted to see _Jericho_ and find out the meeting place. You… You work for CHERUB?"

I rolled my eyes, "More or less. Now tell me, where?" He shrugged, gurgling from him lack of breathe. The tension under my hands went slack as he slipped into unconsciousness. I let go, letting him slump against the wall. Rubbing my hands down the front of my skirt, I put the hand gun back into the holster and secured the strap. Picking up the knife, I strapped it back into its place at the top of my thigh. Moving to the table, I worked quickly; emptying the contents of the briefcase onto the table top. Crisp neat bundles of American hundred dollar bills cascaded onto the floor. Out of the corner of my eye, something small and round escaped the money and dropped to the floor with a clink. It rolled for a small distance before panning onto the ground. Bending down, I picked it up and turned it over in my fingers. It was a poker chip; the shining letters of _The Red Dragon Casino _glinted in the light. Smiling, I threw it into my rucksack and began to pile in the money.

"That's the problem with you Europeans…" wheezed Yoshi, coming out of his stupor, still slumped on the floor. "You think you can send children into battle and still win. CHERUB, _Polevoi Shtab – _you're all the same…"

"Please, CHERUB doesn't own me. Thanks for the cash," I said, swinging the rucksack over my shoulder and walking towards the door.

* * *

The lights from _The Red Dragon Casino _blared against my eyes – the red and yellow bulbs flickering brightly in assorted patterns. I took the hand of the chauffer as he guided me out of the back seat of the limousine. My long silk dress cascaded down my legs and onto the red carpet of the entrance to the Casino. Yoshi's money had taken me a long way in the three hours I had it. Although a majority still remained, now lying in the bottom of the Luis Vuitton bag around my elbow, a small percentage was now sitting in the cashiers of the top shops in Tokyo. Lucky for me, my encounter with Yoshi and his Triad gang had left me relatively unscathed – save for the few bruises and broken rib, hidden by the leisurely green silk wrapped around my body. I pulled the fur wrap tighter around my shoulders as the car moved behind me.

"Madam would you like me to take your bag for you?" asked the doorman, his white gloved hand extended towards me.

"That's quite alright," I smiled, slipping a hundred dollar bill into his fingers.

"If you wish," he said knowingly, a large smile spreading across his face. "Please, enjoy your night Madam." I strode past him and through the gold plated doors. Inside, the sound of flicking cards, poker machines and laughter pilled the air. Young women in bustier and fishnet stockings roamed the room, offering drinks to losers and kissing cheeks of the victors. Striding past the crowded public tables, I made my way over to the stair case at the back of the room. It's marble and golden plating poured from the second floor, meeting the main room with two American men in sharp black suits. Approaching them, I planted a small smile on my face.

"I'm sorry Madam, but you cannot come up here – this is the private playing rooms," one of the security guards said, his Japanese rigid.

"I think you'll find that's why I'm here," I said in English, opening the top of my bag and letting him peer into the contents. The man nodded, moving to the side and allowing me to pass. Another man in a black suit met me at the top of the stairs, his hands clasped in front of him. I passed him the bag, of which he rummaged through before opening a grand door at the top of the staircase. Several men, with their cigars dangling from the sides of their mouths and crisp Italian suits, turned to face me as I walked in. Their eyes scanned across my body and hugging dress. The man with my bag led me to a table at the far end of the room, where three men sat waiting for a card game to finish.

The first man was an elderly French man, his moustache as small and thin as his wallet that sat opened on the table. He threw his cards as I took my seat, a red six and a black four worthlessly landing on the green table top. He left quietly as the man who led me places my bag beside me and escorts the man out.

The second man at the table was Japanese and in his late forties, his pile of tokens also dangerously low. He flitted his eyes up at me as I straightened myself in my seat.

The last man was more like a boy; his clean shaven face showing the softness of childhood but with the ridges of a young man. His fingers playfully tossed the tokens in his hand as he examined his cards with the other. He was well built, with blond hair, and being dead on 6 feet tall with a stocky build. I controlled my breathing as he raised his blue eyes, the penetrating coldness sending shivers up my spine.

His name was James Adams, and this was not the first time I had encountered him during my missions. First, it had been in Cuba with the Koscov case, then again in Montreal during the medication bust. Out of a total of twenty five missions, twelve of them had made me run into him. He was as dangerous as he was flirtatious. Oh, yeah, and he was supposed to be my arch nemesis.

* * *

**-James-**

I sat at the poker table, studying the cards before me. It was a good hand; the aces staring back at me as I threw another few chips onto the board. The Frenchman on my right threw his cards and left the table as another member joined our group. I concentrated on my cards, my pile of tokens stacked high in front of me.

I had been chosen for this mission because of my mathematical skill. I _chose _to do this mission because I felt like James Bond. For the last week I had been living it large in Tokyo; sweet suits, plenty of drinks and numerous hours in the Casino winning big and loosing nothing. Tonight, however, was the last. _Jericho _was supposed to be arriving within the hour, giving me the small window of opportunity to fulfil the mission.

I glanced up, awaiting the man on my left to make his move, and I saw her. Her green eyes were sparkling and bright as she watched me from across the table. The colour of her dress matched the colour of the iris's that stared me down. Locks of auburn hair framed her face and fell to below her shoulders in soft curls. She smiled slightly, showing her white teeth beneath the ruby red lips. The fur on her shawl looked as soft as her skin.

"Monsieur Adams, do you wish to show your cards?" asked the dealer, his eyebrows raised. I dropped my cards on the table, revealing the winning combination. A few on-lookers clapped as I collected my winnings and stacked them, ready for the next round.

"You play very well… For a cheat," she whispered, coming up behind me and placing her small hands on my shoulders. She leaned in from behind me and kissed my cheek softly, her lips brushing past my ear. "Then again, that is all you English are good at."

"And so what are the Russians good at, if not cheats?" I asked, turning in my chair to face her. Sleek and elegant make-cup covered her face and highlighted her features; bringing out her emerald eyes and large ruby lips. She had kept her hands on my shoulders as I had spun around, keeping us in an intimate embrace. I put my hands on her waist and pulled her close.

"Beating English spy ass," she replied, playing with a lock of my hair. "Namely you, Mister Adams."

"That was only one time," I sighed, pulling her closer so that our legs were touching. "It's been too long Danita. The last time I saw you, you were high-tailing it out of the Louvre with a very expensive piece of art under your arm and…"

"And that was Danita. Today, I am Sesilia," she tutted, fixing my tie.

"Am I ever going to find out your real name? It seems only fair, seeing as you already know mine," I asked as I ran my fingers up and down her side. She flinched as I reached her ribs, moving away from my touch tenderly.

"Not only are English cheats, you are also stupid. Using your real name defeats the purpose of being a spy! No one is supposed to know who you are. CHERUB has sure gone downhill," she murmured, pulling herself away.

I sighed, bringing my glass to my lips and feeling the warmth of the whiskey pour down my throat. I looked over her again, noticing the snug fit of the dress and how it hung onto the curves of her hips and chest. "Babe, I probably know you better than anyone who thinks they know your real name. I know you mentally… I need to work on the physical."

"Bah! You wish," she said, rolling her eyes. A small blush escaped from her composure, pooling her cheeks red. I stood up and took her arm before taking her to sit at a private booth on the side of the room. As she settled herself in her seat, I closed the thick red curtains – enclosing us in a dimly lit cacoon.

"You are here for _Jericho _yes?" she asked, pulling up the hem of her dress and pulling out the M1911 pistol strapped to her thigh. I nodded as she began to check the rounds and clear the safety. I had seen this pistol before; it was her personalised weapon. The pistol was silver with an engraving of thorny roses twisted on the slide. The grip featured a cherry token in the center. Five charms hanged from the butt on golden cord; a sand timer, teddy bear, skull, baby bottle and a rabbit. I wish CHERUB would issue us with more weapons like that…

"He is roughly five foot two, with brown curly hair and tanned skin. Most likely of a Latino decent. Likes to wear white alligator shoes and owns half of the world's cocaine supply," she added.

"You've seen him? When?" I breathed, blinking twice.

"Only briefly and not too long ago. I had a little run in with a mutual friend of ours."

"Jeez, I've been here for a whole week and no sign of him."

"Your time is wasted, he will not be here," she said matter-of-factly. "Yoshi Nagisaki was supposed to run the meet-up, not _Jericho_; they both have probably skipped town by now."

"So why are you still here?" I enquired, slumping back in my seat and loosening my tie. She raised one of her thin eyebrows, cocking the weapon and placing it back under her dress.

"I have bigger fish to fry than _Jericho_. He is just a pawn in this ever growing chess game. You see Mister Adams, this is another advantage of the organisation I work for – we have no objectives, and we have no rules. We can change and adapt to new facts and people. CHERUB, on the other hand, is very much only one-dimensional. You put the small-time crooks away, whilst the masterminds run free and live the high life," she dismissed, reaching up and sitting on my lap. She pulled her arms around my neck and held my chin with her fingers. "That and I had some money to burn and I knew you would just love to see me in this dress."

"Are you trying to recruit me? Or just play with my emotions?" I asked, running my hands up and down her legs – noticing the small lump up on her thigh concealing her weapon. This was the closest I had ever gotten to this mysterious girl, and I wasn't going to waste it.

"No darling, I'm warning you. There's a storm coming James, and your government, including CHERUB, had better batter down the hatch," she said, lifting my chin up. My breathing grew heavy as she stared me down with those memorising eyes…

"Can you kiss me?" I whispered, the words barely escaping my throat. She smirked at my direct approach and lowered her gaze.

"I find that kind of devotion sinful," she said. "Perhaps it was even the origin of sin. But I think it's safe to say that you and I are already damned." I expected her touch to be tender and hesitant but there was nothing sweet or kind about the way she held me. She roughly parted my lips with hers, deepening the kiss by grabbing the front of my shirt tightly. She kissed me as if I was her salvation. Her hands moved away from my chest and down my arms to my wrists. I breathed her in and pulled her closer to my chest. Lightly grazing my tongue over her lower lip, she leant back.

"Mr Adams, you never change," she smiled, straightening my tie again. I went to push her fringe out of her eyes, but was snagged back by the metal cuffs chaining me to the light on the side of the booth.

"You know, we should try this hand-cuff thing when we're off duty. Tell me your name, and I can look you up. I might be even interested in trying this kissing this again. I find it a lot more enjoyable then you beating me up," I tried, pulling on the tight cuffs. She laughed and slid off my lap.

"When you get back, you can tell your boss Mac that he should stop having you check up on me. I'm not a little girl anymore," she said resentfully. "And you're beginning to become boring."

"How do you know Mac?" I asked as she opened the curtain and stepped back into the main room.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" she posed, shutting the curtain closed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Operation "Mole"**

**Location: CHERUB Headquarters, England**

**Objective: Find and destroy intelligence.**

* * *

**-James-**

"So you're trying to tell me, that after months of high security intelligence and a whole week of high rolling, not only did _Jericho _completely smoke-screened us again but you were tied up by a mysterious girl who knows almost everything about you?" Mac bellowed, his hands pounding on the desk. I shrunk back into my chair, nervously fiddling with my hands.

"Yes sir," I mumbled, concentrating on the floor.

"Not to mention the fact that you _lost _all of the money you were betting," he added, sitting back in his chair.

"In my defence sir, it was stolen – not lost – and I was kind of tied up at the time," I tried.

"And how did that happen exactly?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. A blush flooded up my neck and into my cheeks; I had been extra careful not to let detail into my mission report.

"James, your eighteenth birthday is in a month. You know we'll have to let you go; playing you off as a millionaire play boy can only go so far for so long. Face it, you're time is almost up," he said quietly, looking thoughtfully into one of the many photo frames on his desk. I nodded slightly, keeping my eyes on the floor. What he had said was true; it was hard to come up with a good cover story now I was older. Most of the other CHERUBs my ages had left or were on their way out. Lauren still had a year or so left in her, but as for me, I was pretty much out the door.

"And that is why I'm going to give you this last mission," he added. I shot my head up, noticing he now had a small golden frame in his hands. His worn fingers wiped the glass tenderly before placing the frame facing me on the desk. A young girl, roughly twelve or thirteen, grinned from the centre of the picture. Her green eyes and auburn hair shone in the sun that beamed down on her. Mac stood beside her, his arm wrapped affectingly around her shoulders.

"That's…?" I stuttered, pointing stupidly at Seslia's face.

"Kaddison, my niece," Mac explained, intertwining his fingers together. "She used to be such a bright little girl; attended church twice a week, did all of her homework, played with the other kids… It was her seventeenth birthday three weeks ago. She left CHERUB two days before you arrived here James; she was supposed to be one of your mentors."

"Kaddison? She's the girl I keep running into? What a coincidence," I said, picking up the picture and examining her smile closer. How could this sweet innocent little girl turn in to the young woman who had tied me up and stolen my money? Kaddison was so ruthless, so determined and focussed – I had never thought of her as someone's family or as a happy little girl.

Mac coughed quietly, "Well, it's not really all that coincidental."

I raised an eyebrow, placing the picture back on the desk.

"At first, it was. When you had described her again and again in your reports, I knew it had to be her. She grew up here in CHERUB. From the first day she could crawl she had been training to become a fighter and I supported her until the very end. I didn't expect her to turn it on me," he sighed, rubbing his chin. Producing a key from his pocket, he stood up and moved over to the over-crowded book case. Pulling back the spine of a leather bound Yeats, a spring mechanism pulled into place and the section of the bookcase swung around revealing a hand scanner. Placing his hand on the screen and turning the key in a slot with the other, the machine beeped twice before sliding open. Mac pulled out a thickened folder and shut the safe closed again. Taking his seat, he weighed it in his hands.

"This will be completely off the books James. I'm putting this completely in your hands; everything you may need will be run through me directly, no one else. But, if you don't want to, that's okay and we will never mention it again," he said placing the folder in front of me and turning his chair to face the window. With his back to me, I paused before taking the folder and leaving the room.

* * *

I sat at my desk, the fat folder still unopened in front of me. I had been here for an hour, at least, pacing and staring at the mission briefing. I was still wearing the towel around my waist from a shower I had taken twenty minutes ago. A passport sized photo of Kaddison's face had been clipped to the front, her large gleaming eyes watching me through the black and white film. In the picture she was holding a jail cue, stating a false name and date of birth in Russian, and a sly smile printed across her face. I drummed my fingers along the clasp that held the binding together. Sighing, I untied it – waiting to see what lay inside.

_Brrrring, brrring. _The sound of the phone made me jump, the shrill ring echoing inside my head. I pulled the receiver to my ear and sat back in my chair.

"James speaking," I answered, kicking my feet onto the desk.

"Hello James, did you miss me?" she asked, her faint Russian accent purring in excitement. I almost fell off my chair, lucky to catch the side of the desk before tumbling to the floor. I grabbed the phone and checked caller-ID. _Anonymous_.

"Kaddison?" I squeaked, checking the lock on my door.

A small chuckle came through the receiver, "So he told you? I take it that you are surprised?"

"Uh, yeah, a little," I said, sitting back at my desk. The folder still sat closed, the side peaking open. I slid my fingers beneath the flap, keen to learn.

"Oh, yes… Only the naughtiest of the naughty are presented with such a privilege as of having a personalised folder with a CHERUB stamp. And locked in the Director's office too, in his personal safe – I must be very bad in your books. I must say, I am a little flattered. I'm just as curious as you to see what is in there," she mused. I could sense the smirk in her voice.

"How did you know I was going to open it?" I asked, bringing my feet back onto the desk.

"CHERUB has video surveillance in each of your rooms. Uh, yes, and they keep electronic copies of all the tapes on the same hard drive. Mm, I wonder how much all of the bad guys in the world are willing to pay to see the private lives of the country's top secret weapons. Or even better, how much you are all willing to pay as to see them never see the light of day?" she teased, her voice combining with a glimmer of a giggle. "Nice girlfriend by the way, Kerry isn't? Or is it still Dana? Sorry, I get confused between them. Maybe you should put name tags on the, that way neither of us gets confused." I blushed profusely, taking a stand. I scanned the room, looking in the back of the bookcase and in the seams of my mattress for the spoken of camera.

"You won't find it. And even if you did, what are you going to do? Tell Mac? He was the one who had them put in," she giggled.

"Please, I beg of you! If Kerry finds out…"

"Oh darling, I don't imagine she would care that much about Dana anymore. She's been shacking up with your friend Bruce Norris since you were caught the first time… That can't be his real name, can it?" she asked, her voice monotonous. A small pause went between us. "I noticed that you didn't mention _how _you ended up tied up to a chair in your mission report. How curious James."

"How lucky I think you mean," I corrected. "Having the debrief with your uncle was stressful enough."

"So, are you going to open it?" she interrupted, tutting impatiently. I sighed, pulling back the flap and pulling out the wad of paper.

"Okay, Kaddison Tsar, seventeen years old, Russian and British citizenship with several notices for arrest in five different countries in the past two years. No known associates or central employer. You've been busy," I noted, flipping the page. "Left CHERUB at the age of eleven – the reason isn't stated – but it does say, with several assorted weapons and high-security equipment. No official records until… You served time in a Russian Juvenile Prison at the beginning of this year, but escaped after three days into your six year sentence. Your last known address is in Moscow, Russia, and… Hang on, the rest of these pages are just blanks?"

"Do you really think I would let you in on all of my secrets? That would be cheating, and make this game a whole lot less fun," she teased, the sound of clicking and paper shuffling come from her end of the phone.

"Where are you right now?" I breathed, placing the paper back into the folder and putting into the drawer. "You must have cleared out the folder sometime between Mac opening the safe and now. But it's been with me the whole time… "

"You really shouldn't play your music so loud when you're in the shower," she commented. I paused, my mouth gapped open.

"You were in my room? You didn't, you know, look…?"

"Ha," she snorted. "You think too highly of yourself. And don't worry; I won't be sticking around for long. In fact, I'm on my way out now." A tap came from the window behind the closed curtains, making me flinch. Hesitantly, I pulled back the curtain – almost fainting at the sight of her. Dangling from the top of the building, Kaddison sat perched by my window, three stories up from the ground. I dropped the phone and stood on my bed to undo the latch.

"How long have you been here?" I squeaked, my skin shivering from the wintery breeze. She was wearing only a black suit, the tight fabric stretched over her pale skin and curved body. Strapped across her body was numerous kinds and amounts of kit; ranging from her personalised hand gun on her side to the black compressed rucksack on her back. Long curls fell loose from the French braid that ran down her back from the black aviator helmet she wore. She disconnected the call from her earpiece and looked down at me, her green eyes shining like the fires from hell.

"Long enough," she said with a wink, eyeing the towel around my waist. I felt the heat of blood running up my neck and into my face. "So, are you going to take this mission? It's not obligatory, and you have to emit, it does sound kind of fun."

"Tempting," I said, leaning forward out of the window. "Why don't you come inside for a bit? It's a little chilly out here."

Her fingers lightly touched my bare chest, pushing me away from here and back into the room, "Tempting," she said, repeating my words in her faint Russian accent. "But no, I have a flight to catch. Back to Russia, in case you wanted to know."

"I'll see you there then," I mused, leaning against my hand.

"I tell you what James darling, if you do find me; I will give Mac what he wants _and _you what you want," she said, pulling twice on the string that led up onto the roof. I leaned forward again, breathing in her minty smell. She lightly brushed her lips with mine, the cold flesh nibbling at my own. I lightly closed my eyes as she kissed me ever so lightly. Her breathe was as fresh as her taste, and just as teasing. Suddenly, it was gone and I reopened my eyes to find her swaying away and the sound of helicopter rotors filling the air.

"How do you know what I want?" I shouted, almost falling out of my window. Hiding a sly smile, she pulled twice on her suspension rope.

"Until next time, Mister Adams," she called faintly, switching down the visor over her eyes and disappearing into the distance.

* * *

**-Kaddison-**

I pulled again on the rope that suspended me from the helicopter, signalling for the hoist to bring me up. The cold English winter nipped at my exposed cheeks like icy raindrops. A pair of gloved hands grabbed my shoulder and pulled me into the main compartment, slamming the door shut as they shoved me into the seat.

"Ты взял свое время!" the young man shouted at me, his gruff Russian muffled by the balaclava.

"Я вам сказал бы пять минут," I said quietly, shrugging off my helmet and pulling out my hair. Adolf undid his mask and sat opposite me, his dark blue eyes blaring. The balaclava had messed up his hair, sending the pale blonde strands in different directions across his forehead. Slightly flushed from the cold, his cheeks were a rosy red compared to the rest of his pale complexion.

"Вы поцеловали его," he accused.

"Это не то, что вы либо безгрешного," I spat back, rubbing my lips with my numb fingertips.

"The Boss will not be pleased we have done this," he murmured, this time in English. I leaned across and stroked his cheek with an ungloved hand. The slight stubble of his chin felt ticklish under my fingers.

"Do not worry Adolf, when I tell him what we have done, he will rejoice. And then, we can go relax. We can use the spa in my suite if you wish," I suggested, feeling the rush of blood to his cheeks. He broke into a sly grin and leaned back in his chair, pulling me along with him so that I was lying on top of him. I suppressed a squirm as he ran his numbingly cold hands up the back of my shirt.

"You know I don't like it when you kiss other boys," he whispered. "In particular, when you do it in front of me on purpose."

"I do not belong to you Adolf," I said, running the tip of my thumb across the bottom of his lip.

He chuckled deeply, "Uh yes, how could I forget? The infamous Kaddison Tsar belongs to no one." I managed a small smile as I pulled myself off him. I kicked my feet up onto his lap and loosened the strap on my rucksack. I pulled out the paper and the small laptop, handing the latter to Adolf to place into the box beside him. I flicked through the pages, scanning the numerous words and pictures that Mac had collected over the past six or so years. He had been so thorough, so clean with it all, like a man obsessed. I breathed deeply before opening the side window beside me and thrusting the entire pile out of the window. The pages fluttered down behind the helicopter, before landing in the inky blackness of the Channel.

"What was that?" Adolf asked, running his hands up and down my calves. I flickered my eyes over to him before closing them lightly.

"An old friend," I said, pulling a spare jacket over my shoulders and falling asleep.

* * *

**Hey Guys, so I hoped you have enjoyed this so far. Please, review if you think I should go on with any suggestions on where it should go! –Redg.**


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